Shattered (Tempest Coven Novels)

by Wendolyn Baird

Even though I know it's not an invitation to ask, I can't stop the words. “Why are you here then?”

  Her thin lips are painted in a deep red, so dark it appears to be black, and as she stretches them into a smirk against her glistening teeth, I'm reminded of blood. A shiver runs down the back of my neck, and I try to brush it away, hungry for her answer.

  “I'm looking for someone. They're important, and in danger, and that's all you need to know. My scrying mirror told me I'd find them here, and I need to soon, but I haven't found any witches yet.” Shuffling her feet, she eyes me hopefully. “So, I need your help. A level six mage has got to be helpful in tracking down other magic, especially one who is so protective of his home.”

  It's startling how vividly she portrays darkness and life at once. No wonder the people of Salem feared her kind so greatly; that kind of strength is so raw and magnetic, it's alarming. Chaotic. At least with my spell work every little bit is tied into the very Earth. It's ordered and strong in its roots. There's no risk of backfire or loss of control, the power flows through me and back into the Earth and keeps me anchored. This woman threatens to combust, or soar into flight.

  The sensible side of my brain tells me to walk away right now, for all I know, she could be the death of me. But she's asking me for help, and I don't think I've ever been able to turn down anyone needing help. Even if I could, there's a pull to her that's making it hard to even imagine leaving her on her own.

  “I could help you, sure.” Mulling it over, I try to stall the inevitable. To get a grip on myself and force myself to walk out the door without glancing back or asking her name. “But first I want to know how you keep all that energy bundled up without falling apart. I've never understood that about you witches, and to tell you the truth, it kind of scares the hell out of me.”

  “You're over six feet tall and a high-class mage, but you're scared of a little kitchen witch?” Her laugh cuts through the air and vibrates against bracelets on her wrists, her energy literally lifting music into the air.

  A sheaf of black hair falls over one of her combs and a flash of sparks flit across my eyes as she tosses her hand backwards in dismissal. My eyes widen in surprise, but I catch myself before my voice reveals my awe. “I don't think I've ever heard a stargazer refer to themselves as a kitchen witch before. Between your telescopes and mirrors, I thought you imagined yourselves invincible.”

  Raising my eyebrows, I keep on. “Look, I don't think you're going to find your guy here. Trust me, if there was another one of you walking lightning bugs around here, we'd know. All those nomads couldn't help but let magic shoot out every now and then, and it was hell every time for us to get everything sorted out again.”

  “My mirror never lies. And you must have only met backwater covens because I can assure you, witchcraft can be just as precise as your scribblings. In fact, I'm willing to bet it's even more so. There's so many little nuances to runes and sigils.” She snaps back, wiggling a finger disdainfully at my tattoos.

  Her eyebrows are drawn down again and she's even more agitated than before; most likely angry to not have her divination instantly come true. Closing my book and standing up, I brush my hands off and stretch.

  “Tell you what,” I drawl, trying to play it cool. “If I help you find this person, you'll clear out and we won't ever have to worry about any spells gone wrong. Deal?”

  She's amusing, but dangerous. I need to steer her as far away as I can. There's no telling what havoc she could wreak if she decides to settle in.

  “Deal.” She agrees, a swift handshake bringing in what feels to be the end of my world. I don't know what I've just gotten myself into, but the earth sliding beneath my feet warns me that I may have just changed the course of nature itself.

  Chapter 5: Atlas

  PEOPLE AROUND ME PRESS closer together as they lean away from my form and allow me to pass easily, and I'm grateful for the extra space as I try to keep my eye on the witch. She’s sliding so gracefully through the crowd it's as though she's made of water. The mortals hardly even notice her, though the ones that do stop and stare.

  Her hair contrasts sharply against the pale silver of the moons she wears, and although she is dressed like the rest of the people at the festival, it's obvious she's not a local. Her movements are too precise and determined to be someone relaxing on her day off, but the natives usually move with more familiarity to their surroundings. This woman treats every passing figure as though they're an obstacle instead of a friend.

  To my surprise, she leads me back to my own booth. Upon reaching it, she plops herself onto an empty table and turns her face upwards to look at me, eyebrows raised in expectation. I'm not the only one flummoxed; Elliot has the other table folded and our sign in hand, but instead of making his way to the car, he drops both. I nod in greeting and scratch the back of my neck awkwardly.

  “Well it seems as though we have a slight guest in town, Miss, uh, Miss uhm...” I falter, realizing I never even caught the woman's name.

  “Tania,” she grins, black lips highlighting the energy that vibrates through the air even as she speaks. Obvious relaxation flows from her now that I've agreed to help her, and the intoxicating mood draws a nervous smile from my lips.

  “Yeah. Miss Tania here is a visiting witch. Some mirror of hers told her there's someone here for her to meet. Have you seen any other witches passing through here today?”

  Elliot's face pinches in apprehension and I can see he's feeling just as cautious as I was about the idea of a powerhouse walking through our home.

  “No. I can't say I have. This is an earthquake zone; everyone knows witchcraft tends to set off quakes. Most folks around here are either mages or mortals.” His face is calm, but his choice of words is clear. You're dangerous here, he's warning her. You don't belong here.

  “I realize that,” She sighs, shoulders curving inwards as she twists her wrists around to lean on her palms. “I didn't come to cause anyone any problems. It's just that I'm supposed to find and save somebody I love, and if this is my only chance, I've got to take it. Your brother already gave me a lecture, but really, I'm just here to find them and move on.”

  Elliot turns his head past her and stares at me, eyes widened in disbelief and impatience. The urge to shrug is overwhelming, but nonchalance is not going to help me right now.

  “So what?” He demands, leaning towards her, his broad figure blocking the sun from entering the booth. “You want us to... what? Drop our lives to help you find your little friend? I'm sorry Miss, you seem kind enough, and usually I like helping tourists, but the last of your kind we had around caused a sinkhole in the middle of the town square. I don't mind you as a person, but the land here doesn't care for your powers.”

  “Not you,” she hisses, drawing herself to her full height and swinging her legs down to drop herself onto the ground again. “You are a lower classed mage with nothing more than a small amount of magic and a large helping of arrogance.”

  “Whoa! Hold on there,” I interrupt, starting over to her, my defenses high as her anger flares.

  She ignores me and continues her rebuttal. “I come from the earth as well, it's not my power that causes the trouble, it's the animosity your brittleness pushes into our spells. We draw from the world around us. Show us fear and anger, and even a small ritual will cause chaos and discord. That's not on me,” Tania enunciates clearly, her body tense in agitation as she circles him. “That's on you. You don't want trouble?" Eyebrows raised and lips twisted in a sneer, she holds a finger up to his face. "Then don't will it into existence.”

  Elliot's fists are shaking in bitter humiliation. I was wary of her in the coffee shop earlier, but out here watching them interact I find my heart racing in terror. There's a reason magic holders don't usually mix and this is it right here. Sidestepping between the two of them, I face my brother head on and block Tania from his view.

  “Ground yourself. Now.” I command tersely. If he doesn't shut down his anger and channel some ene
rgy back into the earth, he's likely to collapse our canopy, or open his own mini sinkhole beneath Tania's feet. Stepping closer to him, I lean forward and whisper so that she can't hear.

  “Calm down and use your manners. She's just one woman passing through. Not a whole damn coven looking for a home, and she knows the risks. I will handle it. Okay? I'll handle her. She'll be gone by tomorrow, promise.”

  His nostrils are flaring in retaliation, but he knows I'm right and stalks off without another word.

  Tania and I made a deal, that much is true; but why I'm sticking my neck so far out, I can't say. Everything I learned in academy told me never to lower my guard around a witch, but here I am, literally exposing my back to one of them.

  “I'm sorry,” she offers, her voice smaller than I've heard it yet. “I figured you may want to talk at your own booth before setting out, maybe make an excuse for your brother. I didn't realize my being here was such a big deal, or that he'd react so strongly. I didn't know I'd let myself fly off the handle like that either. I'm sorry.”

  For the first time, I notice her eyes are light grey, and I'm stunned by the amount of remorse behind them. Clearing my throat, I glance away, unnerved by the vulnerability in her face. It's time to settle this, even half an hour of conversation was too long.

  Running my hand down my right forearm I trace a row of Celtic knots that line my wrist and check my own line of magic. I rooted myself firmly into the town itself when I was younger, and though I can feel some of my aura gravitating towards her, it's not forced. Directing more of my energy into the dirt, I explore my roots and double check the vibrations at the town fault lines. They're jagged and off balance, sure, but not dangerous.

  The back of my neck chills slightly and I'm reminded of why I need to get her out of here. Her presence is bad for the town, but Elliot's reaction makes me feel like the town may be bad for her as well.

  She continues on, still troubled. “Why aren't there any flowers out here? It's summer, for crying out loud! There should be sunflowers, or at least thistles. Something. This is worse than summer anywhere else I've lived - and I spent the last three years in Texas, so that's saying something!”

  Heaving a deep breath into my chest, I try to ignore her to concentrate on the rock beneath my feet, calling to mind the runes we have inscribed in each of the roads. Each one glows a dull yellow and represents the energy of mages and mortals alike. Reaching out as far as I can, it's painfully obvious what I already know. The only bright spot indicating witchcraft is right in front of me.

  Tania is vivid and determined, and so set on finding this non-existent witch, that I know she won't believe me even as I open my mouth.

  “There are no witches here.”

  Chapter 6: Atlas

  “NO. THERE'S GOT TO be, there's going to be, I can't leave without...”

  Tania's eyes are desperate as she falls back, her voice sharp with distress.

  “Hey, hey, it's okay." Tentatively reaching over, I pat her shoulder, as though that could turn off the tears that are gathering in the corner of her eyes. "Um, maybe they're not here right now, but I'm sure your guy will show up. Look, we've got the roads marked, and I can keep checking them for witchcraft. I'll help you find whoever it is you're searching for.”

  The anguish on her face is so potent, there's no question that she loves this person more than herself. She's practically unraveling where she stands. It's difficult to meet her eyes, and although my hand is still resting on her shoulder, my feet shuffle with the urge to back up.

  “But how do you know so quickly? Just like that?” She snaps her fingers in agitation, switching rapidly from fear to anger in her panic. There's no other word for it, the woman is panicking... and I'm standing here like a dunce, patting her arm.

  “There's at least a few hundred, or thousand, or whatever people here, even if it is a small town. How can you be so sure?” She reiterates. Ah, here's that disbelief I knew was coming.

  I press my lips together and switch my weight to the other leg, debating the best way to explain.

  “The way the town is set up, anyone above a level five can scan the roads for... bright spots basically. Generalized auras where magic is present. It's not completely precise, but it can show the difference between mage work and witchcraft.”

  Tania's face is a horrid shade of gray, and I falter. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

  “Can you see me?” She demands, her dark lips slurring the words together in a frantic plea. “My magic, I mean. Can you see me? Can anyone else see me?”

  “Oh.” Glancing around, I think back to earlier today. Did I sense her energy before she introduced herself?

  “No. I mean, yes, I can see you now, but I couldn't before.”

  “Great, perfect, that means it's not too late!” Her voice and eyes are manic, and I can't help but take a step backwards, watching the crazed movements she's carrying herself with.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” The less sense she makes, the more I'm regretting agreeing to help her.

  “I can cloak myself to a certain degree, and so can the person I'm looking for! If you were only able to catch sight of my magic just now, then you can't know for certain that there aren't any other witches.”

  Muttering more to herself than to me, she continues, “As long as I stay low, we can still make it out of here.”

  My spine is pressed by the weight of careful attention, and I glance over my shoulder. The crowd moves lazily, but I don't see any eyes on me, despite the discomfort. Weird. I could have sworn someone was watching me.

  Forcing my gaze forward, I angle around to meet Tania's troubled face. “If I'm helping you, you need to level with me. Are you running from something?”

  “We are. And I only have until the new moon to fix things. I told you I have a scrying mirror, but every time I scry, it locks me into a set path... a prophecy. I've tried to ignore them before, and you just can't, they become catastrophic. I need to get out of here by the new moon.”

  Running from fate is a far less tangible enemy than I was expecting, but... “Why the hell would you use an object you know is going to potentially curse you?”

  Solemn eyes stare at me in the falling shadows, as the afternoon swiftly fades away around us. “When the answer you need is worth the risk. Isn't there anyone you love enough to put your life on the line for?”

  I want to answer, and I don't. Luckily, I don't need to, with the way she's nodding her head at me, Tania's already got my measure.

  As the silence grows between us, so does the tickling feeling at my neck, as though someone is peering over my shoulder. I clench my jaw in an effort to keep my feet still, but it's no use.

  "Come on," I suggest, walking towards the parking lot. "We ought to grab some food. If I can't use magic to find them, I'm going to need more information about this person of yours. A facial description at the very least, and the darker it gets, the harder it will be to see anyone.”

  As I navigate my car around the trees that border all of Hildrun's main roads, I consider Tania's timeline. If it's true, she has until the new moon to work things out, she could be around for almost a month... far longer than the twenty-four hours I'd promised Elliot. I tighten my grip on the wheel and worry about his reaction to that.

  The Council will make it a point to get involved. Maybe interrogate her. Passing through is no problem, but the new moon is a couple of weeks away, that's quite a while for her to plan on staying.

  “So, coming to Hildrun, and having until the new moon, what's that all about? Your mirror just gives you a location and date... or how does that work?” I ask, working to keep my tone casual.

  “What does it matter? You can't do magic my way and I can't do it your way. My schedule is my own. Speaking of which, it's getting late, where's this restaurant you were talking about?”

  Okay, so her demanding nature doesn't just pertain to needing help, but apparently food as well. What a fun situation I was stupid enough
to agree to.

  My headlights flicker as she speaks, and the tension between is becoming more than just annoying. Magic is often chaotic, and the less grounded a person is, the more dangerous it becomes. Tania is obviously in an emotional state, and though I doubt she'd intentionally cause us to wreck, picking the closest restaurant might be best.

  “Right here. Why don't you grab us a table, and I'll go park? It might take me a minute to find a spot.”

  She nods and hops out, swinging her large purse over her shoulder and stepping quickly to the door. I watch her wiry frame enter the lobby, then pull away from the curb, scanning the crowded lot.

  Circling my car around the building a few times, I'm able to snag a close parking space, and smile a little smugly at the accomplishment. At least one thing's going right for me tonight, patience pays off.

  Unfortunately for me, I was paying more attention to the cars than the people, and a whole group from the Council is approaching the vehicle next to me. Of course, I was wrong.

  Stifling a groan, I slide my keys into my pocket and rub at my jaw, wondering if I have time to duck around to the other side before they see me.

  “Atlas! There you are! You know, I have been trying to get a hold of you for a few weeks. That brother of yours says you've been spending a lot of time in the workshop lately. Is that right?”

  The loud voice reaches me before the dim streetlight illuminates the portly gentleman it's coming from. Round is what I see at least, so I'm assuming it's Abel Engelbert. Round face, round torso, and curiously rounded designs that are always embroidered into his clothes.

  I grimace and take his hand briefly. “Yes sir, that is correct. We've had a few custom pieces lately and Elliot is better with the customers anyway, so someone had to manage the workshop.”

  A round of laughter courses through the group and Abel claps me on the back, “Well that's probably best anyway. Leave the metal working to the professionals.”